


Ruined by British telly

by Tardisdaughter



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff and Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 06:51:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tardisdaughter/pseuds/Tardisdaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a promtp of the tumblr Let's Write Sherlock! <br/>After a nearly disastrous case, Sherlock and John share a tense taxi ride back to Baker Street. With emotions running high, they finally arrive back at 221B, and then… well there is a reason because Sherlock doesn't like watching Doctor Who.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruined by British telly

**Author's Note:**

> For the challenge 1 of Let's Write Sherlock:   
> After a nearly disastrous case, Sherlock and John share a tense taxi ride back to Baker Street. With emotions running high, they finally arrive back at 221B, and then… well, let's say that Sherlock has really good reasons for hating Doctor Who... 
> 
> I wrote this fic in two days and English is not my first language. Even though I will revise it twice or three times more if anyone noticed mistakes or wanted to be my beta, I will be really pleased! Of course, suggestions and critics are also welcomed. 
> 
> I write fics to improve my English skills at the same time I do one of my favourites activities: writting stories about fictional characters so I am looking forward to the next challenge! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

-          221B Baker Street, please – said Sherlock to the cabbie and then he looked at John and both of them started to giggle, full of adrenaline and _joyness_. Their last case had been really amazing, it had had everything: a really clever murder, a proper persecution, loads of oportunitties for showing off and teasing Anderson...

-          My... I’m knackered – said John grinning – I’m dying for my bed and sleeping for days...

 

Sherlock could only nod, he was too tired to answer too. But when they arrived at his flat, Sherlock noticed something strange: there was a strange blue light inside their living room. He nudged John and pointed at the windows. The blond nodded and took out his jumper his gun.

Both went upstairs quietly who was inside? An enemy or a client? But whoever she or he was... where did that strange light come from?

They were about to open the door when a female voice called them out loud _from inside the flat_.

-          Come on, guys. I’ve seen you arrived on the cabbie. Do I have to wait you all the day? And John – added that voice and Sherlock could almost feel the smirk in her tone – Do yourself a favour and drop the gun, dear.

 

John and Sherlock stared at each other surprised. The taller man opened the door and, for one second he thought he had gone mad.

A blue police box was inside their living room, but not a normal blue box but the TARDIS from that ridiculous serie John loved, _Doctor Who_. Sherlock had to confess that it was a perfect copy of the one in the BBC serie, although how did she managed to put inside their flat?

_She_

Sherlock noticed for first time the little woman who was sit in _his_ armchair with a cup of tea in her hand, staring at the two men with a mischievous smile.

John was the first who spoke

-          What...? What the hell is going on? Who are you? – said to the woman who smile him with an appreciative sight that Sherlock didn’t like a bit.

-          I’m the Doctor.

-          Not, really – answered John – This is very funny and this TARDIS is really amazing but the Doctor is only a fictional character. Even Sherlock know that!

-          Ey! – added the detective but he didn’t say anymore because the woman stood up laughing and got nearer John

-          But you remebered the time when everyone believed that _Jim Moriarty_ was only a fictional character too, didn’t you?

-          “The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.” – quoted Sherlock – Brilliant.

-          But... but... it is impossible, this had to be a dream.

-          No, it isn’t. I wrote the first stories of the BBC serie, actually. The sad history of Gallifrey had been preserved through those scripts at least.

-          But... the Doctor is a man! – replied John

-          Oh well... what’s the point of regenerating if you can’t prove both sides of the life? – said the Doctor smiling – But you have to admit that a handsome actor playing the leading role is usually more attractive for the audience than a little woman like me. I don’t have a proper sex appeal to appear in BBC.

-          I don’t think so – added John with a smiled that made Sherlock uncomfortable (Why? He had never been bothered by Jonh’s other girlfriends...) He decided to get right to the point.

-          Ok, _Doctor_... If you let the world believe that you don’t even exist. Why did you come to us? I assume you do need my help, don’t you?

-          Oh damn it! – he palmed her face – I completely forgot about it! Yes, you’re right, Sherlock. I am not the only one who has fans through the ages... – she smiled fondly – In the XXII century, a evil genius had named himself as _the Sherlock Holmes of XXII century_ but in a bad way. He had been murdering people for more than 40 years and noone can prove anything because he declared himself your best fan. He applies all your methods to hide and eliminate clues, so I thought that the only one who will ever compite with him is, obviously, the _real_ Sherlock Holmes.

 

Sherlock’s mouth fell in surprised and the he grinned from ear to ear, John was right. This had to be a dream it was too perfect for real life...

-          Oh my God... – he heard John listening behind him – This is the only thing his ego needed to be even bigger...  Convice him that the world will remember him as the greatest mind even after his death.... I didn’t want to be who tell this story to Lestrade...

-          Well, Sherlock, did you help? – laughed cheerfully the Doctor – I mean, it is obvious that you will do, but I prefer to clarify just in case...

-          Of course! – shouted Sherlock  with sparkling eyes - When do we leave?

 

John was living the best adventure of his whole life. Not only because he had travelled through time and space but because his childhood hero turned out to be _real_ and he was a woman! And a really pretty and sexy one, by the way. John liked her since the first moment and luckily, she seemed to like him too! But he didin’t hold out too much hope because she _was_ the _Doctor_ the last of the Time Lords, ancient and young at the same time, powerful and kind and the cleverest person in the universe... What could this person want from him? He was a little ex-army doctor in his forties...

But he didn’t let himself get drepressed about that, instead of that he enjoyed this extraordinary experience.

 

On the other hand, Sherlock hadn’t decided how he felt about this woman yet. Apart from defying all the laws of the physics, Sherlock actually found more difficult to deal with the fact that he wasn’t the most intelligent in the room... and he wasn’t the only one an amazed John was staring at. The poor detective was really confused by all the emotions inside his _heart?brain?_ but he chose to put those feelings in a corner of his mind palace and focuse on the best case he probably would ever have.

 

They spent three weeks trying to catch the “future” Sherlock, finally he managed to cornered him in an alley. He faced his fan alone, John and the Doctor lagged behind him, fighting with a few minions. The man stared at him and smiled without caring about the gun Sherlock was pointing to him.

-          Well, my death will prove I was right.

-          About what, exactly? – said angrily Sherlock, he was tired and John and the Doctor were late… if something had happened…

-          That I am the greatest mind of my generation and that the only person who could kill me was Sherlock Holmes, the most greatest detective of all the times.

-          And do you realise that in order to prove your point you have killed more than 50 victims?

-          Come on, Sherlock, you’d have to understand me, wouldn’t you? You know what is the boredom, the black hole which tries to swallow your mind if you don’t feed it…

-          But I would never kill people!

-          You had a friend… - the man smiled sadly – you met John Watson… and he changed you. All his records have been preserved, Sherlock… and I am sure that, if you hadn’t met Dr. Watson, like me, you’d have become into a serial killer or maybe you’d have joined to Moriarty’s web.

-          You… you’re wrong… - muttered Sherlock but he couldn’t make a fool of himself  he knew that he actually could have become into a killer… or maybe he’d have killed himself if he hadn’t met his loved doctor.

 

Suddenly, the man leapt on Sherlock and tried to take the gun away but Sherlock pulled the trigger and his fan dropped dead on the floor before he could do anything to avoid it.

The detectived stared at the corpse surprised but then he remembered his companions and turned over to the main street.

 

He saw them sitting on the floor, they were surrounded by at least ten unconscious men, both panting but looked at each other grinning; Sherlock was about to say something when John took the Doctor’s face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

Sherlock waited for the moment she rejected him, he hoped for the moment she realised that John was already taken (even if not in a romantic way, at least she must know that Sherlock couldn’t survive without him…) but she kissed him back and Sherlock retired to the darkness and went back to the TARDIS.

 

By the time they arrived to the spaceship Sherlock had managed to convince himself that this was the best for John and Sherlock really wanted John to be happy. So, when they got home and John didn’t release the Doctor’s hand he pretended not to notice how much his heart hurt.

He stared at his best friend and smiled. John nodded, they didn’t need to say anymore John was aware that Sherlock knew what he had decided. This made the situation a lot easier to deal with it.

Instead of crying or saying goodbye, the detective huged his friend tightly for a few moments, then he turned the eyes upon the Doctor. He shook her hand and said:

-          Look after him.

-          I will do my best.

 

Sherlock grimaced and decided to leave now he has still things under control he turned over and look for last time at John.

-          Good luck.

-          Thank you, Sherlock, for all.

-          Be careful and don’t forget me… although if I am remembered even in the XXII century I supposed that it’ll be difficult.

-          I couldn’t forget you even though I wanted. – smiled John

 

Sherlock went out of the TARDIS into his living room and didn’t turned over until he heard its typical sound. Only then he allowed himself to sob and cry while he was sitting on the coach and looked around his flat, his _lonely and silent_ flat.

 

Sherlock didn’t know how he managed to deal with the next weeks after John’s departure. Ms Hudson, Lestrade even Mycroft had asked about the Doctor but Sherlock could only looked at them and said “He is gone” because, how could he told them the truth? They’d lock him in an asylum. Although sometimes Sherlock almost wish they had done.

 

The silent and the calm in 221B was really enervating because everytime he was alone he could only think about John and how he would be…

Eventually, Sherlock assumed that John had been forgotten about him (because the other possibility was that he was dead and Sherlock wasn’t ready to consider that one).

 

One year after the farewell, while Sherlock was in his room changing his clothes after a rough day (there were loads of them without the chances to teasing John) he heard again the TARDIS landing on his living room and he run downstairs (yes, he had actually swapped bedrooms after he discovered he could sleep better in John’s room).

 

But there wasn’t HIS Doctor who was waiting for him but only the Doctor with weeping eyes and a sad face. Sherlock knew instantly what they meant.

So did the Doctor. She got nearer and said:

-          Sherlock… I’m so sorry…

-          You promised! – shouted Sherlock, exploding with rage and fury, unable to hold himself anymore – You promised you will keep him safe!

-          I tried! – cried she – You have to believe me, Sherlock, I didn’t… I would have died for him… I … we…  - she sat on the chair, shaking and crying like a little girl – We were in Rome, not the Rome you knew of course, another Rome in 3042… an then things got a bit complicated… like always… and suddenly we were surrounded by ninja-dwarves who tried to kill us. One of them shot a poisonous arrow, I didn’t see… If I had noticed it… maybe…

-          John put in the way of the arrow, didn’t he? – muttered Sherlock. She nodded and looked for something in his pocket.

-          He was shot right in the lung, it was fatal… but he gave me that and their last words were for you, Sherlock… you were the last thing he thought…

-          But… he loved you… he chose you… - whispered Sherlock

-          That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you, dear – answered the Doctor, holding his hand and giving him a little box.  – I’m sorry, Sherlock, I shouldn’t have come to your lifes, I screwed up… again. – she sighed and stood up – I hope you will forgive me someday. Meanwhile… farewell Sherlock Holmes.

-          Goodbye, Doctor – he answered and shook her hand. He didn’t blame her for John’s death. At least, John had enjoyed the life he had always wanted: intelligence, dangerous and a gorgeous woman to love. 

 

He didn’t open the box until the TARDIS had disappeared. He went upstairs and laid on the John’s bed. He opened the box and he stared at the John’s dog tags and a tiny piece of paper: the last letter of John Watson to Sherlock Holmes.

_Sherlock I’m afraid that when you read those words I have already passed away. But don’t feel pity, I’ve had a better life than I deserved. I met you and you fixed me and gave me a reason to live and then I met the Doctor and she showed me the whole universe and you will never believe the things we saw, Sherlock… probably not even you could imagine all the amazing creatures that live out there…_

_But you know… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even while I was in the Waterfalls of the Neutronic Galaxy I could only think “ I wish Sherlock was here to see this, I really miss him”._

_I loved the Doctor, of course, but you are the best man I’ve ever known, you are my best friend and, if I didn’t meet the Doctor I would spend the rest of my life next to you without any regrets._

_That’s why I’m writing this letter I don’t know when we’ll manage to get home (the navigation system of the TARDIS is always broken and we kept landing in the wrong place or date) I have lived here for 10 years right now but maybe it has passed only one month since I left. It doesn’t matter, my point is, Sherlock Holmes that I swear you that I never forgot you and I never will do._

_Even though I had passed away by now, you have to promise one more thing, one more miracle Sherlock, for me…Live! Live your wonderful life and work with Lestrade, don’t try to die (I have a bit of peace and calm after all, I don’t need you come with me so soon, sorry about the bad joke, you know what I mean)._

_Seriously, Sherlock… enjoy your life because you deserve all the good things that will happen to you._

_John Hammish Watson._

Sherlock didn’t know when he had started to cry but he felt the whole room spun around and the last thing he noticed before fainted was the noise of John’s dog tags fell on the floor with a metalic sound…

 

He woke up and stared at the roof of the living room for a few seconds. _The living room…_ something was different but the detective couldn’t say what…

-          Sherlock, do you want a cup of tea or coffee?

 

He stood up like a thunderbolt and stared surprised and shocked at his friend who was still in his dressing gown.

-          John... – he got nearer… - Are you alive?

-          Eeh… yes. At least I was the last time I checked. – the doctor frowned – Have you drug me again, Sherlock? Was I supposed to show any strange symptoms?

-          No no, not at all – answered Sherlock still shocked… - What happened last night?

-           Well… we sorted out the case of the clever murder, as you called it, and then… we came home and you laid on the coach and I watched for a while the new chapter of Doctor Who and I went to bed.

-          That was then! – exclaimed Sherlock happily and he hugged John grinning and rested his head on John’s shoulder…

-          Sherlock… did you have a nightmare with _Doctor Who_ aliens? – asked John tenderly as Sherlock nodded (he was still hugging him but John didn’t say anything to spoil it).

-          One day, I will tell you about it, but now… - said Sherlock – can we have breakfast? I got a load off my shoulders right now and this is worth celebrating!

John didn’t say anything but he smiled his friend and looked at his amazing flatmate fondly, Sherlock turned his eyes on him and added before bitting his toast

-          And John... Can you avoid watching D _octor Who_ for a few months? At least meanwhile I am with you.

-          Mmm... – the doctor looked at him amused but then nodded – Ok, but only if you promise me to not keep human bodies inside the fridge.

-          Deal. - before he could add something more, his phone rang and he answered the phone, happier than John had ever seen him. He didn't know what had been Sherlock's nightmare but he promised himself that he will do his best to keep that happy smile in the face of the most amazing detective in the universe. 


End file.
